“Thanks for picking such a nice private location. This time you’re going to tell me what I want to know, bitch.”
Rachel tried to contain her fear, but she felt herself trembling in his grip. They’d been wrong. Somehow he’d be able to find them.
“Come on. We’re getting out of here before your boyfriend gets back.”
“No, please,” she tried to plead, but it was only a muffled gasp.
“There’s something going on with you two, and Iwillfind out what the hell it is.”
Just as he had at her shop in New Orleans, he’d come prepared with handcuffs, which he pulled out of his pocket. “If you scream, I’ll bash these across your face. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
He took his hand off her mouth.
“Put the cuffs on.”
With no alternative, she clicked first one cuff around her wrist, then the other. But at least her hands were in front of her.
“Why are you after us?” she gasped out.
“The Badger wants to know what you’re up to. But it’s more than that.”
“The Badger. That’s a person?” she asked, struggling with her own confusion.
“You’re not the one asking questions,” he shot back as he grabbed her arm.
Jake’s foot bounced on the accelerator. He needed to go back. Clearing out to lure Smithson in had seemed like an acceptable idea at the time. Now the knowledge that Rachel was back in the cabin alone sent wave after wave of cold through him. With a curse he pulled to the side of the road. He was getting ready to make a U-turn when he saw a truck barreling down the road behind him. Hands clamped on the wheel, he waited for it to pass. The sides were rickety wooden slats and behind them he could see cages of chickens. Obviously the driver was in a hurry to get them to market.
When the rattling vehicle had passed, Jake turned and followed. Ahead was a sharp curve. The other driver took it too fast, the rear end of the vehicle swaying back and forth—just before the front end slammed into a tree. In seconds cages flew in all directions with chickens spilling out. Scores of the birds escaped, flapping across the highway in a white cloud of feathers, their terrified squawks adding an unnerving soundtrack.
Jake slammed on his brakes, stopping just in time to avoid rear-ending the bigger vehicle or plowing into the chickens which were now scattering across the roadway and into the landscape.
Jake cursed again. The stupid driver had done this to himself, but he might be badly hurt. Under other circumstances, Jake would have stopped to help. Instead he pulled out the burner phone and called 911.
As the operator asked him to report his emergency, he gave her the information about the accident and the location while he cautiously angled his car toward the opposite lane. Chickens flapped around in his way. Getting out, he made shooing motions with his hands, yelling at them to clear out and sending them a mental message to flee from danger. The performance seemed to work, and finally he cleared a path wide enough for him to drive around the truck and make his escape.
He glanced at his watch. How muchtime had that incident cost him? He wasn’t sure, but a sudden sense of danger screamed that he had to get back to Rachel—quickly.
Rachel could try to fight her captor with her mind, but she knew it wouldn’t do much good, not with Jake gone. He’d managed to generate a thunderbolt alone, but it hadn’t had much power. And she’d only done it with his help.
She tried to send a desperate message to him, but it was as though she were flinging her thoughts into a vast white cloud.
When the man hustled her toward the door, she dug her heels into the rug, but he pulled her along, his fingers making marks on her arm.
Panic shot through her as they stepped outside, and he began marching her toward a car parked in front of the cabin. Oh Lord, this wasn’t supposed to happen.
She looked wildly around and saw no people and no other cars. Apparently no other guests were near this section of the grounds, which meant screaming for help would do her no good.
Still, in desperation, she silently cried out to him.
Jake, Jake, he’s got me. Please get here before he takes me away.
When he didn’t answer, she knew she was going to have to try something herself.
“Come on.”
The man pulled at her arm, hustling her toward the car.
